


Spock Goes To Ikea: A Betrayal

by tellmescience



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Crack, M/M, Mild Gore, a mention of wonder woman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:08:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tellmescience/pseuds/tellmescience
Summary: Spock breathed in the recycled air of Ikea’s wardrobe section.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Spock Goes To Ikea: A Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> written by my Shadow Agent: funny and clever, the sherlock to my molly, the stiles to my jughead, and far too busy to bother with things like fanfiction. (the fact that she wrote some is, apparently, inconsequential.) but here i am to make her art widely accessible, with her permission.
> 
> ((the fact that berserk is involved should be a content warning in and of itself, but also this is very fun and cracky!))
> 
> also if you want to read it how it's truly meant to be read, with color, [here.](https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Mi47WHSTEktFcWH5AwHg5A_kToCxGcgDIzBBUAwvjeQ/edit?usp=sharing)

Spock breathed in the recycled air of Ikea’s wardrobe section. It smelled like (chris) pine and melted plastics. He moved left, behind a massive white PAX wardrobe, and in a very manufactured and obliviously obvious way tried to seem like he was considering the storage space available for his three pairs of black shoes. He glanced around, ensured he was out of the view of the single camera near the stairwell, took a sharp breath, closed his eyes, and-

“Spock? Don’t you think white is a little too aggressive? You’re still going for a sort of modern Icelandic look, right? Spock? Are you alright? You look bad.”

Spock wanted to explode. How was a guy meant to summon forgotten gods in an Ikea on Fento IV with this kind of companionship? Ridiculous.

“How many times do I have to tell you to refrain from assuming my physical well-being based on how I look? I always look bad,” Spock replied.

“Awww that’s just not true. Sure you look like a hairless koala meets bad asian caricature sometimes but it’s part of your charm! Anyways, we should probably get back soon, it’s pretty dark outside. Kind of hard to tell what time that means it is, though, weird sun situation they have going on here.”

[- - -]

Spock really needed to get into that Ikea again. The spaceship’s head chef had a birthday coming up. She was a Leo. Spock really didn’t concern himself with what would happen to her when the time came. Leos are most unpleasant. 

“We should plan a birthday party for Nancy,” Spock said as he was standing next to Chris Pine in the elevator.

“Yeah right, we’re on this weird ass planet for another two weeks, Spock. We can’t even eat any of the local food. Where are we gonna get a cake?”

“Our space imperialism has imposed a Swedish furniture store on this planet.”

“You want to get birthday party supplies at IKEA?” 

“I believe it is the best option.”

“Alright, whatever, we can go tomorrow morning.”

“Can we not go in the evening?”

“What?”

“We need a Grönlid chaise longue. The quality will be best to judge after a long day of work, so we know what we will still find pleasing when tired.”

“Shit, yeah. You’re so fucking smart.” 

[- - -]

Spock decided the houseplant section provided the best cover. Everyone else was still in the cafeteria, eating meatballs. No one questioned Spock’s sudden revulsion at the meat, nor did they question his desire to inspect the house plants. Spock rolled his head on his shoulders, suddenly very tense at the fact that he was going to do what he was going to do. 

Honestly, when he read the Scroll of Babilim it struck him as nothing more than an interesting piece of anthropological evidence. He did keep the amulet that came with it, though, for no other reason than he just knew it would look pretty sick next to his cactus. Then the gross little slug beast came into his room and, well. 

“Here we go I guess,” he muttered. He drew the blade across his palm, and pushed the amulet to the wound. It stung a little. 

Nothing happened.

Holy shit. Spock kicked a potted plant next to him, barely registering the pain when his foot met the ceramic. What was he supposed to do now? What was the point of all that late night slug talk then? Had he been hallucinating? Did he do it wrong? Was he not willing enough? 

His bowl cut stood on end. Goosebumps emerged on his skin. He glanced behind him.

“Oh, fuck.”

[- - -]

Spock breathed the recycled air of Ikea’s cafeteria. His ribs burned. His left eye was twitching. His ears were ringing. There was a pressure on his back, under the dramatic black trench coat he wore at all times. 

“Spock! Check this out! Lil Yachty’s verse in Broccoli is actually about racism, that’s so wild honestly I didn’t see that coming but I guess it’s kind of fucked up too that I find it so surprising, you know, that I’m like shocked that a song by some random ‘trap’ artist can have some social commentary.” God, he wished that Chris would shut the fuck up sometimes.

“That’s fascinating.”

“Hey and we found the perfect tablecloths for Nancy’s party!”

“I’m glad.”

“They’re a nice yellow.”

“Oh absolutely not. Awful color.”

“Spock my shirt is yellow like all the time.” 

“Yes, it’s bad.”

“Whatever, man. Makes me feel happy.”

Spock tried his best to look normal.

[- - -]

“Hey spock’o rit’o~~~…. I want a breakfast burITOOOO~~~~~~!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I just brought you a waffle, and last night you ate nine grilled cheeses. When can we begin to make the deal?” Spock was getting real tired of waiting.

“Everyone alway asking me to say things and talking things to me.. FRANKLY i’m tired of it!!! I haven’t had a real tongue in three hundred years…. Want a burrito,” replied the First Sublime. 

“I will get you a burrito when you tell me what I need to sacrifice for your assistance.”

“hnnnnnnYYYEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHHH!” 

“........... Do you want this one to be dairy free like the grilled cheeses, or...”

[- - -]

“Hey, Spock,” Chris called, catching up to him in the hallway.

“Hello……. Honey………..” Spock hedged. 

“Yeah uh, why is there a fucking gremlin in your room?”

“Why did you go into my room?” 

“I heard gremlin sounds coming from the vents, but I just thought it was you trying to work through your emotions. But then you were out here, and I walked by your room on my way to grab some saltines from my room, and I heard this… singing…. ‘His coconut gun, can fire in spurts, if he shoots ya,,,, , it’s gonna hurt!’... Like that.”

“I see.”

“So what the hell, Spock?”

“I, uh, I gave birth.”

“HUAH?????????”

“It’s a Vulcan thing. I had a child.”

“WHEN?? WHAT??????? IS IT…. MINE?”

“No it’s uh, it’s immaculate. Conception. Immaculate conception. When someone is just so great our biology makes us asexually reproduce so there’s another one of the Great Ones for the future. And it, uh, happens most when the species is in distress. Like now, with the planet exploding and the trafficking and. Yes.”

“Wow… that’s incredible, haha… yeah… haha! Wow, when can I meet your kid?”

“Never. He , , just died.”

“AHHH ehhhhh huh yeah! Yup! Hhh Sorry for your loss, Spock.”

“... Thank you.”

[- - -]

“You told him I was your kid?”

“Yes.”

“And that I had just died.”

“Ye,..... Yes.”

“I think you might just be an absolute fucking dunce.”

[- - -]

“Uhura. Uhura I think Spock has lost his mind.”

“What happened?”

“He told me he gave birth, asexually, and that it died as we were speaking. And there is some kind of bird gremlin in his room, eating Chicago-style popcorn, singing about Donkey Kong.”

Uhura stared at Chris Pine. Obviously, this was some kind of joke, or a test. As the smartest person on the ship and also the only useful main character, she should have been used to problems like this by now. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, this time to say something great, when the entire spaceship shuddered and then tilted to the side, and the alarms began flashing. 

“Oh, what the FUCK,” she yelled. She really had been going to say something great.

“CAPTAIN CHRIS PINE!!! WE’RE BEING PULLED BACK DOWN TO FENTO IV!!!!! HHHHHHHHHELP?” one of the redshirts shouted over the intercom.

Chris Pine sighed. He missed Diana. 

[- - -]

“Hehehehheheheheheheh HEHE hehehe e eheee eeeheuheuheuehhehehhe!! Hehhe!” cackled the First Sublime.

“Could you stop. This is not fun for me,” Spock replied.

“I’m sorry, do you fucnkg think you’re jesus fucking christ or something?? Moses delivering his people to freedom?? You’re cruel, Spock. Not a saint.”

“I am ending something that should have ended long ago. It is not cruel, it is absolute.” 

“That was kind of hot,” said the Third Sublime, from behind him. 

“Okay, I’m sorry, WHO the FUCK are you?” Spock yelled, startled.

“Here to see the preface! First time in our recent memory that we initiate a new member! Four becomes five… anyways sweet cheeks you got kik???”

“I have a boyfriend.” 

“He has a boyfriend,” added the First Sublime.

“Not for long though, right?” prodded the Third.

Spock glanced at his cactus, pot broken across his bedroom floor, soil gathered around it’s dying form like blood, and said nothing. 

[- - -]

“Captain! Captain, we’ve landed. What do we do?” Random Redshirt said.

“Stay on the ship for now. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with. Has anyone seen Spock?” Chris Pine asked.

“No, sir. Is he hurt?”

[- - -]

“You know, this reminds me of Berserk a little bit. Just less….. Violently misogynistic, ya know. And a lot worse, generally. Not as cool,” said the Second Sublime.

“The good ol’ life imitating art… imitates life…….. Imitates.. Art.. Imitates Lana del Rey… Gods and Monsters,” replied the First Sublime.

“Could you all please be quiet.” Spock was struggling to concentrate.

“Disrespect! Bitch!” The Fourth Sublime bellowed. 

“History really just repeats itself, huh, remember when this was you, Mo?” asked the Third.

“Fuck right off,” the Fourth responded. 

“History is just every once in a while someone reinvents Narusasu,” the Second Sublime pointed out.

“Between Spock and Chris Pine which one’s Naruto which one’s Sasuke?” the Third Sublime asked.

“Hmm no Narusasu here. I’ve seen Spock’s memories. These two are more like… a really shitty Hamlet and Ophelia,” said the First.

“You didn’t even read Hamlet,” said the Second Sublime.

“Yeah cause I’m not a fucking dweeb, Yoeoroeo,” grumbled the First.

“And you can’t read,” said the Fourth Sublime.

“AND I can’t read!” exclaimed the First Sublime gleefully.

Spock stared at the Enterprise from atop a hill. The people of Fento IV were far away, he assured himself of that. They had landed in an uninhabited stretch of desert. He really was minimizing the collateral damage. He hoped Chris Pine would understand all of this, and set his jaw as the Four began to sing. 

[- - -]

Chris Pine wasn’t sure what was happening. His crew was walking outside, looking dazed, and he was just part of the crowd. Where was he going again? The wailing song continued, pulling him closer and closer. He saw Uhura in front of him, her eyes wide and glassy. 

The small part of his mind that wasn’t entirely preoccupied with the march towards the singers hoped Spock was okay. 

[- - -]

Spock watched everyone file into the valley, standing still and patient, looking up at the sun rising from behind the hill. He wondered if they knew it was him, standing with these creatures. He saw Chris Pine and felt his stomach roll. 

The Four stopped singing. 

[- - -]

Chris Pine couldn’t entirely process what he was seeing. The sun was peeking over the hill, silhouetting the figures that stood atop it. The sky was too red. 

[- - -]

“Hmm…. choose the hill to die on,” said the First Sublime.

“That is not how it goes. Also please, stop. My decision has been made, but this is not easy for me.”

“Narc,” muttered the Fourth Sublime.

Spock watched as the ground began to burn, and the crowd began to panic. The Third Sublime turned to address the crew.

“Welcome, esteemed posse of the Enterprise! You will be pleased to know that you have been blessed enough to pay witness to this historic event, the birth of a new god! Not only will you pay witness, but you will become involved in the most final way possible! Congratulations! Spock, do you want to say anything?”

[- - -]

Spock? Spock was with them? What were they doing to him? Chris Pine felt like he had bees in his eyes, maggots in his mouth, ants in his brain. 

[- - -]

Spock inhaled the moist, heavy air of Fento IV. It had felt cleaner, purer before the Four had begun to sing. “Yes. I suppose I do. You have all been complicit in the imperialist Federation’s strong arming and exploitation. Some of you have even actively contributed to the injustice. The Federation has known of the mass trafficking of persons, of the labor farms…. For years, they have known. And they do nothing. Instead they pour their energy into expanding trade and ‘cooperation,’ controlling resources and civilizations alike. I have decided to join the league of villainous gods, in order to gain the power required to topple the oppressive and corrupt Federation. You will all help me accomplish this, as I care for you all, and thus your death, my sacrifice, will bring the chance for a better future. I thank you all for that. It has been an honor.”

At that, the Four descended. 

[- - -]

Chris Pine watched as his crew was slaughtered. His feet were melted into the ground. He watched as the giant wolf ate Nancy’s skull, heard the crunching and snapping, and felt the bones at his joints grind together. He watched as the black eagle snatched Uhura from the ground, and carried her up only to drop her back down. He watched as she plummeted, and felt his intestines writhe.

He didn’t remember how it ended, but it was over, and Spock was in front of him. 

“I found myself unable to sacrifice you,” Spock said.

Chris Pine looked up. For a moment, he thought he had imagined everything, because it was Spock in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” Spock said, “it will be worth it in the end. You will see.”

Chris Pine trembled and vomited on the blood-soaked soil of Fento IV. “You’re a monster.”

Spock blinked. “I am a Sublime, and this is just.”

[- - -]

Spock breathed in the recycled air of the Federation’s headquarters. 


End file.
